“Yes. He is.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“I feel… the same thing. That he is mine and I am his.”
Lenore nodded. “I spoke with him today. I told him that he can never, ever give you the bite.”
“I know. He told me. But we didn’t need it. We have the bond anyway.”
“I’m so happy for you, Emmie.”
It didn’t take long for them to reach the edge of Den Hollow and there stood a creature that she almost couldn’t wrap her head around.
He was bigger than any of the Woolvens, a giant, really. The parts of his body not covered in armor were covered in bones that seemed to be outside of his skin. He spread his wings, and they too were made of bones—tiny skulls.
His eyes were black as the night, and his skin a strange blue.
No wonder Gin had been terrified. This was a bone fairy. None of those bones that seemed to be a part of him were his.
“Before we go, hunter, I must speak with the little sugar fairy.” He didn’t bother to introduce himself. His voice was deep and somehow made of shadows—nightmares that were ground to dust on the sharp points of his vocal chords as he spoke.
She shivered.
“The little sugar fairy doesn’t want to speak with you, Watcher. It was by her grace you were even permitted to pass the magick that guards Den Hollow. I can’t ask her make any more of a sacrifice after what your people did to her.”
“I seem to remember your witch twisting our general’s head off like a toy for trying. She should feel safe enough.” He nodded. “I have a gift for her. You know what I am. The purpose I serve. I will not hurt her.”
“But she doesn’t,” Lenore put her hands on her hips.
“I told you I required a boon to help you. This is what I have asked for.”
Lenore narrowed her eyes and Emmie could feel her brewing for a fight. Em put her hand on Lenore’s arm to stay her. “Let me speak with her.”
“No, I won’t even ask it of her.”
“Maybe she wants the chance to face her fear on her own terms. It’s her choice. I’ll ask.”
She started toward Gin’s shop without waiting for an answer. Inside, she found Gin behind the counter, pale and drawn.
“Hey,” she said.
“He’s still here, isn’t he?” Gin tucked a bit of pink hair behind her ear.
“He is and he wants to speak with you.”
“I can’t, Emmie. Don’t ask me to.” Gin’s white face blanched even paler.
“I’m not asking you to. I’m asking if you want to. If you don’t, Lenore and I will tell him to go to hell.”
She laughed nervously. “Look at you. Not too long ago you were going to run from Drew Woolven, now you’re ready to tell the freaking Watcher to take a flying fuck at a rolling donut.”
“You bet I would. I’ve always been better at standing up for others than myself.”
“I can’t.”
“Okay.” Emmie didn’t push.
“I should, though, shouldn’t I?” Gin’s eyes were haunted.
“He says he has a gift for you.”
“Beware of bone fairies bearing gifts.”
“I beware of all fairies, except you. Actually, I beware of most things. I’m such a coward.” Emmie shook her head. “But I don’t want to be. I needed that to change. I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”
“Neither do I.” Gin popped a cupcake in her mouth and offered Emmie one.
Emmie took it gratefully. Nothing was better than baked goods from a sugar fairy. “I kind of thought so. We’ve both been afraid for so long. I wanted to give you the chance to face him on your own terms. It doesn’t hurt that Lenore will kick his ass from here to perdition. Not to mention Westwood. You’ve got a veritable army at your back.”
“I do, don’t I?” Gin ate another cupcake. “Sorry, I fuel on sugar when I’m nervous.”
“It’s your face. Put what you want in it.” Emmie wasn’t there to judge.
“He’s the Watcher, right?”
“That’s my understanding. It’s not one of those who hurt you,” Emmie reassured her.
“I’ll go. I’ll hate myself if I don’t. It’ll be that voice in the back of my head telling me all the things I should’ve done. All the things I can’t do. It’ll be the proof that voice needs that I’m weak.”
“You’re not weak. You’re amazing. Look at everything you’ve survived and all you accomplished. Eat another cupcake.”
Gin took her advice and crammed one into her mouth. “Do you think I should take him one?”
At least, that’s what Emmie thought she said around the mouthful of mushy cupcake.
“Yes, I do. You’re not scared. Or at least, it won’t look like you are. Put it in a pink box, too.”
Gin nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. I should give Lenore something as well.” She gathered the treats in the boxes and then wrapped her arms around her stomach. “I’m going to hurl.”
“No, you’re not. You’re going to go out there, give him his damn cupcakes, and you’re going to accept whatever gift he has to give you with your head held high.”
Gin nodded, but didn’t move.
“We’re both going to defeat our fears.” Emmie took her free hand and led her toward the door.
“You should know, I really want to run back the other direction.”
“You and me both.”
Emmie hoped she was doing the right thing, but was comforted by the idea that if it all went to shit, Lenore and Mrs. Westwood would back their plays.
They crossed the long field to where Lenore stood patiently waiting with the hulking monster of a Watcher.
When he saw her, he sank down to one knee, head bent so that he was on her level.
Suddenly, Emmie wanted to tuck Gin behind her and hide her from the bone fairy.
Gin approached carefully, keeping a safe distance.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked. His voice sounded like it echoed from beneath a rockslide.
“They tell me you’re the Watcher,” Gin acknowledged.
Lenore stood back, seemingly relaxed, but Emmie knew she was poised to strike, if necessary.
“I am Kasadya. I am he who watches. He who punishes. My gift is death.”
Swell guy, Emmie thought.
“What do you want from me?” Gin asked, trembling.
“I bring you the heads of your abductors.” He pulled a sack from the belt at his hips, that seemed to be the only thing holding his loincloth in place. Kasadya offered her the bag.
“What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Take them, mount them above your home so all know the punishment for trespassing upon you.”
“Would it be rude to say no thank you?” Gin asked.
“You do not accept my gift?”
“I accept your action, and it is… appreciated. Honored.” She nodded, obviously realizing she’d found the right way to pursue the outcome she wanted. “But I leave the proof to you. It’ll make you stronger, won’t it?”
“It will, little sugar fairy. I am shorn up by the bones of the guilty.”
“Then take them, with my thanks.”
He pulled the heads out of the sack, and she watched with awful fascination as they became part of his exoskeleton of death.
“You are brave, and I am sickened by what has happened to you. As are many of our kind. Bone fairies are not all evil.”
“Yet, you have thousands of bones that make your armor. Weren’t they all guilty?”
“Over thousands of years,” he answered.
“I see.” She shoved the box at him. “Here.”
His onyx eyes gleamed. “A gift of sugar?”
“Yes. I meant it when I said you had my thanks.”
He accepted the box and stood, causing Gin to take a step back. It finally registered exactly how big he was. How powerful. But instead of roaring out his greatness, glorying in the space he occupied, he stepped back as well,
giving Gin room.
“Thank you, little sugar fairy. I shall treasure it.”
“You’re not supposed to treasure it; you’re supposed to eat it.” Gin couldn’t stand it if she gave someone something she’d baked with her own two hands and they didn’t eat it. People’s joy at her desserts, their enjoyment—it fed her in a way that the sugar never could.
“I cannot, but I thank you the same.” He turned to Lenore. “I am ready.”
“Goodbye, Emmie. If you need me, call.”
Emmie hugged her yet again. “Be safe, Lenore.” She turned to the Watcher. “Keep my sister safe for me.”
He nodded and they headed off on their mission. Lenore didn’t look back.
“It bothers me that he didn’t eat my cupcakes.”
“Out of all of that, you’re upset he didn’t eat the cupcakes? He brought you the heads of your enemies. That’s kind of the best thing, right?”
“I suppose.” Gin shook her head. “There’s something wrong with me. I need therapy. I need drugs.” She turned to Emmie and shook her violently. “I need a kick in the head.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” She pushed her off. “Also, you’re making me seasick.”
“Sorry, but I’m really sick. There’s something wrong with me.”
Concern for her friend overwhelmed her. “What is it?”
“Was he… hot?”
“Hot as in… you want to grab his wings and bang the shit out of him? Is that what you’re saying to me right now?”
“It’s some Stockholm Syndrome, I think. I mean, it has to be, right?” Gin cocked her head to the side. “I’m just sick.”
“I don’t know, he had a certain quality.” Emmie shook her head. “No, it’s fine. You know why?”
“Why? Tell me why? Make it good,” Gin implored.
“He slaughtered your enemies. He’s their boogeyman. If he terrifies them, he must be good for you. You know what I mean?”
“But he’s one of them.”
Emmie knew exactly what she meant. “Maybe, but like he said, they’re not all bad. Can you imagine what it’s like to be him? He is the only one of his kind. He’s them, but he’s not. He’s alone.”
“Don’t make him the tragic hero. Or I might have to sleep with him. His voice was—”
“—awesome.”
“—awful.” They said at the same time.
Then they laughed. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I don’t find him attractive. He’s all yours.”
“As well he should be, you’ve already got a billionaire werewolf. Leave something for the rest of us.”
“I do, don’t I?”
“Glad you’ve accepted your fate.” Gin crossed her arms over her chest.
“I guess we’ll see if you’ve accepted yours.”
“The Watcher is not my fate.” Gin rolled her eyes. “So, I thought he was hot in that forbidden-oh-my-god-I’m-going-to-hell way. That was it.”
“Uh-huh. You were totally checking out his loincloth.”
“Did you see his obliques?”
“Why yes, I did. They were blue.”
“The most gorgeous blue. It reminded me of my favorite flavor of cotton candy. I could just lick—” She coughed. “Out loud again, sorry.”
Emmie waved it off. “Never mind me. I’ll just regale you with stories of werewolf sex.”
“Oh, really? I won’t complain. Come back to the shop. I have more cupcakes.”
“I can’t. I have to get back to the house. Things are kind of in crisis at the moment.”
“By the way, some guy came by the shop looking for you. He didn’t look like he belonged in Den Hollow.”
“He wasn’t wearing a black cloak, was he?”
“He wasn’t that much of a freak. No, he was very put together. David Gandy type, but he was obviously a werewolf. I mean, I have no idea how he functioned in normal society. If I were human, he’d have freaked me the hell out.”
“Did he leave a name?”
“He said you’d know.”
“But I don’t. I have no idea.” Who could possibly…? “It wasn’t Peter, was it? He’d be crazy to come here.”
“No, I know what your asshole ex-husband looks like. Den Hollow was warded against him as soon as he was Turned. Our Mrs. Westwood knows what she’s doing.” Gin bit her lip. “It wasn’t someone you knew? I just assumed a werewolf with permission to be on these lands would be friendly.” The sugar fairy narrowed her eyes. “Now, I’m pissed. Here, I’m going to make you something to take to Mrs. Westwood.”
A cloud of sugar whirled in the air, spinning and whipping this way and that until it all crashed together to form a statue, much like the delicately carved sugar skulls and Catriona dolls. Only this wasn’t a beautiful woman in a flowing dress.
It was a nightmare sculpted of sweets.
There, before her, was the thing in the darkness she was always afraid was looking back at her. The face that had been hidden from her for so long.
The world gave way beneath her feet and the shadows swallowed her whole as she crashed to her knees. She reached out for Gin, but even the bright light of the sugar fairy couldn’t keep the black pit at bay.
Chapter Seventeen
Drew Woolven had always prided himself on his control.
The way he kept his human veneer in place until it was time to reveal the wolf. His utilization of communication skills, negotiation, until it was time for teeth.
When he saw the statue of Royce DeVayne next to his mate’s crumpled body, his warrior form ripped through his skin and it was Parker, of all people, who put himself between Drew and the door of the sweet shop.
“Brother, stop. Think.” Parker held out his hands.
Drew roared, but Parker didn’t back down. “Why else do you think he showed up here? To show you that he could. What you need to do is see to your mate. Get her back to Aphelion, send Mrs. Westwood with Noah to Academy, and once the family is secure, then we’ll hunt down this fuckwit.”
Drew stood, seething, foam at his mouth like a rabid dog.
“Hey, do you hear me?” Parker looked around his brother. “Throw some truffles at him, Gin.”
“You know…I thought about that, but I decided I choose life.” Gin was obviously nervous at having a Changed, raging werewolf in her shop and had pressed herself against the wall.
Drew’s vision was tinged with red and his singular goal was to make that crimson haze real, to taste the blood of his enemy and paint the walls with what was left.
“Your mate needs you, Drew. She needs you human.” Parker sighed. “Goddess, I’m not equipped for this. You’re the sensible one. Stop making me be responsible.”
“If I thought you were going to lose your mind before you took care of Emmie, I wouldn’t have called you.” Gin snapped.
Drew turned all of his attention on the little sugar fairy, and her eyes widened. “Shit.”
Something hit him in the nose.
Then something else.
Something…chocolate?
Parker cackled. “Oh goddess, she did it. She really did it.” Parker slapped his back. “She’s throwing truffles at you. This is the best thing I’ve seen in my entire life. And I’ve seen some shit.” Parker laughed harder, and it seemed as if he was struggling to breathe.
“Shit!” Gin cried again and tagged him with another truffle right in the snout.
Then he realized she was afraid of him. Her fear tinged the air, and that wasn’t what he wanted at all. Drew didn’t terrorize the undeserving, and sweet little Gin Goodwich was most definitely undeserving. She needed and had been promised his protection.
He pulled himself, and his human form together.
“I’m sorry, Gin. You know I would never hurt you.” He realized his voice was still at an inhuman octave. He took a moment to breathe. “This man who was here, I don’t know how he was able to cross Westwood’s wards, but he’s evil.”
Gin eyed him and threw another truffle at his cho
ps. “The power of sugar compels you!”
Parker choked. “Oh… I’m dying. I’m dying.” He sounded like a croaking frog.
“It’s not that funny.”
“Oh yes, it is.” He snorted with glee.
“Gin, please accept my apologies.” Drew scooped Emmie up in his arms. “I promise you, we’ll take care of this threat.”
Gin nodded. “I know you will. I’ll admit, I was a little afraid, but the Woolvens have always protected me. I know you’ve handled Emmie gently.” She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “It’s not like I don’t live in a world with monsters.”
“I’d never want to be that to you. Not only are you undeserving of such things, but I do love your truffles.”
The sugar fairy laughed. “It’s all good. If I’d known who that bastard was when he came into my shop, I’d have made all of his teeth fall out. I’m not without weapons of my own.”
“And uh, maybe don’t tell Westwood about Drew’s freak out. She’d be so pissed.”
“She would. I’ve had an extra hard day, what with the bone fairy.”
“What?” Parker’s eyes narrowed.
“No, no. It’s all good. It was with her permission. It’s part of the hunter’s plan. And he brought me the heads of those who had hurt me.” Gin contemplated the last truffle in her hand and ate it.
“He brought you heads?” Parker shrugged. “You’re getting married. Just saying. That’s how those bone fairies are you know. You didn’t give him a gift did you?”
Gin squinted. “Maybe…”
Parker grinned. “Yeah, you’re practically engaged.”
“I most certainly am not.”
Emmie began to stir in his arms. “We need to get her back to Aphelion and Mrs. Westwood to make sure everything is okay.”
“So, this Royce DeVayne, he hurt Emmie?” Gin bit her lip. “More than her ex-husband?”
“Yeah. He’s a million times worse,” Drew answered.
“You’re going to kill him, right?” Gin asked.
“Yes. In the ugliest way I can imagine.”
“I hope you have a good imagination,” Gin said.
“If he doesn’t, I do.” Parker grinned, showing his teeth. “We take care of our own, Gin. You know that.”
“Good. There will be more truffles for you when you come back. Preferably with his head. I’d like to see it severed from his smarmy body.”
The Werewolf Tycoon's Secret Baby (The Woolven Secret Book 2) Page 15
